


Pleasure and Need

by uglyinternet



Category: House of Cards (US TV)
Genre: Begging, F/M, Femdom, Finger Sucking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Submissive, sub!duncan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:27:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22446376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uglyinternet/pseuds/uglyinternet
Summary: Duncan also had a side of him that loved to drop all of his control. To place it all in her hands. Showing her a side of him that was needy, wanting, and put her begging to shame.
Relationships: Duncan Shepherd/Reader
Kudos: 8





	Pleasure and Need

**Author's Note:**

> another work that has been posted on my other blog forever ago and i’m finally uploading it on here. 
> 
> i’m sure the duncan/house of cards fandom is small on here compared to all of the smutty smut on tumblr, but sub/needy!duncan makes me weak and this ficlet is a result of that weakness!

When it came to Duncan he was a pretty straight to the point guy. If he was going to take you down he made sure you knew it even before he took the first shot. If he disliked you it didn’t take just his scowl or villainous smirk to let you know, he made sure to vocalize his dislike, his annoyance. Being in a family that kept more secrets than truths she supposed that Duncan was sick of all the bullshit and decided to skip to the point, something his mother and uncle liked to skate around to get their ways, when he found it much more easier to just demand what he wanted, make it known what would happen if they didn’t agree to his terms. If you were to ask him about his success, where most would assume his family and their money helped, Duncan would simply smirk and let the world know that no one said no to Duncan Shepherd and he always got his way one way or another. He wasn’t afraid to ask the gritty questions or give idle threats. 

And he didn’t just use those tactics for business and unrelenting clients. No, he also used them in the bedroom. He loved to bark out orders, demands. Loved to have her on her knees, telling her to beg for what she wanted, his cock in her mouth, to fuck her. He loved the desperate need and want in her face. 

It was not a secret to anyone that Duncan Shepherd loved to be in control. Of all things. In the bedroom, out the bedroom, with his business. 

But what many didn’t know was that Duncan also had a side of him that loved to drop all of his control. To place it all in her hands. Showing her a side of him that was needy, wanting, and put her begging to shame. 

The first time he had shown it had been after an excruciatingly long night of work. He came home looking tired, ready to collapse on the closest cushioned thing. His eyes had been glassy and his bottom lip swollen and red. She almost expected him to tell her he had gotten into a fight, or that he was feeling ill.

She did not expect him to press a passionate kiss to her lips, his forehead leaning against her own, his hands shaky as they grabbed hers and placed it on the front of his pants, his erection apparent as soon as her fingers made contact with the dark material of his pants. A look of pure want, need, and a twinge of embarrassment as he whimpered softly, “please touch me, I need it.” 

She had never seen him so desperate to be touched. Begging for her touch, any touch. A simple press of her lips on his, his neck, his chest, his tip. His hips jerking and stuttering with every trace of her finger tips. As if her touch alone lit a fire in him. A fire that couldn’t be put out until she slid her cunt down on his shaft, riding him until he came with a low cry and ‘I love yous’ and ‘thank yous’ falling from his swollen lips. 

Since that night it wasn’t hard for her to tell what mood Duncan was in when he came wanting. If he came home with a smirk on his lips, looking as perfect as he did leaving the house that morning, striding over to her, picking her up and placing her on the nearest surface, his fingers already pulling down her underwear, his face buried buried in her chest, nipping and sucking at her breasts; he wanted to be in control tonight. 

But when he came home looking dissolved, his hair messier than when he left the house that morning, having clearly ran his fingers through his hair more times than once from frustration or annoyance. His bottom lip red and swollen from biting it too much. His cheeks a light shade of pink. She knew that tonight would be a night where she would be in control. Where Duncan would spend most of the night begging and whimpering under her. 

She loved both. 

Loved getting ravaged by Duncan. 

Loved getting him on his knees and having him beg for her touch. 

So when Duncan came through the door that night, silent, tossing his jacket over one of the living room chairs. His stride to the kitchen slow, the heels of his shoes echoing through the house. She already knew without having to turn herself around what kind of night it was going to be. What mood he was in. 

Duncan was not one for being quiet, even entering their home on an off day. Always greeting her even before knowing where in the house she was. Always making his presence known. 

And when he didn’t do any of those things, there was only one reason why. 

So when she heard the click of his heels get closer, closing in on her as he reached the kitchen where she was chopping up vegetables for their dinner. She didn’t flinch when she felt his arms wrap around her midsection, his chest leaning against her back as he enclosed her from behind. His lips pressing a kiss to the back of her neck, before leaning his forehead against her back. His breathing slow and shallow. She could already feel his erection pressing against her cloth shorts. 

Making her grip the handle of the night just a little tighter. Having to still her task at hand before she missed a pepper and got her finger. 

Duncan doesn’t go unnoticed of this. Her stopping. Her change in breathing. “I’m sorry.” He whispers against her neck, and it sounds anything but sincere. It sounds needy and almost as if a small child had spoken it. 

The corners of her mouth pulling up into a small smile. “Bad day?” She asks softly. Duncan simply nodding his head against her back.

She wants to turn around and look at him, run her fingers through his hair, kiss him and lead him into the bedroom, tell him that she is going to take care of him. Make up for the shit day that he had. 

But she doesn’t get a chance to move. Not as he starts to rut against her backside. The outline of his erection pressing into her ass, up, down, and back again. Soft whimpers falling from Duncan’s lips and onto the skin of the back of her neck, goosebumps littering her skin. 

This doesn’t only have an effect on Duncan. No. It has a warm ache starting at the bottom of her belly and down to her core, until she’s moving her ass back into him. Letting the knife go and rest on the cutting board, only so she can grip the side of the counter. Her hips rolling slightly, her legs pressed closer together as she hears a loud moan slip from Duncan. 

“Please,” is all Duncan can say. An audible whisper that makes her clench. Makes her grip grow tighter on the counter. “Baby,” he whines. The need in his voice heavy and raspy. “I–“ he swallows, hard, he licks his lips, he grunts against the base of her neck as he continues to grind against her, “need to come.” He whimpers. 

The desperation not only apparent in his voice. In his whimpers or the way his erection his pressed tightly to her ass, her front pressed flesh agains the counter, leaving little room for her to move, his arms loosening their hold on her only for his palms to slide against her abdomen and to her hips, gripping them in a needy desperation to make the grind of his cock against her ass feel even better. 

But she hears the frustrated sigh that falls from his lips. It’s not enough. It’s not what he needs. There’s too many restrictions. Too many clothes. Not enough of what he needs. 

So presses her ass into him enough to gain some space from the counter and turns around, and if she thought Duncan looked beautiful on a good day, a normal day, it held nothing against the way he looked now. The way he looked when he was needy. A desperate Duncan was something that sent chills down her spine and had her clenching around nothing. 

She hadn’t even touched him yet and he looked wrecked. His hair falling slightly down upon his forehead, his eyes hooded and dark and glossy. His lips parted, his bottom lip red and wet. He looked absolutely beautiful. 

She can’t hide the smile that spread across her lips as she stares at him in awe. Nor can she hide the smirk it turns into once she takes her hand, places it on his redden cheeks, his warm skin burning against the slight chill of her own, an audible shudder running through Duncan at the contact. His breath coming out in hot puffs as she runs her thumb along his jawline, to his chin, up to the skin below his lip, and finally coming to run across his bottom lip, smearing the saliva that’s gathered there from him licking his lips. 

This action alone, making his clothes his eyes. The knuckles of his fingers turning white as he grips the fabric of her shorts. 

“Please.” He says again. Opening his eyes, his brows knitted together, his eyes pleading with her. 

“What do you need, baby?” She asks as if she doesn’t know. As if he didn’t just tell her seconds ago that he needed to come. The pure need and agony in it almost gut wrenching. And when he sighs, frustrated, whiney, it makes her grin slightly. Because yes, she loves when he’s like this. She loves how needy he is for her, for her body, for her cunt. But she also loves hearing him say it. Show it with not only his words but his body. Loves watching his chest shake from his whimpers and shudders. Loves seeing the pleading look on his face. And she knows he loves it too. He gets off on the begging just as much as he does her touching him. Her letting him fuck her. 

And who would she be if she didn’t give Duncan what he wanted? What they both wanted. What the flame inside of their bodies was begging for. 

“Duncan,” She says his name and it’s like liquid medicine to him, because she feels his weight push back on her a little more as his legs shake and a wet spot starts at the outside of his pants. “What do you need. Tell me, baby. Do you want me to take care of you?” 

He nods. Fast. Vigorously. His eyes cast down to her. 

“How do you want me to take care of you?” She presses a kiss to the side of his mouth. He whimpers. Shakes. Moves his body closer to hers so his election his pressed between her legs, he grinds against her and she lets out her own breathy moan. “Use your words Duncan.” She tone demanding and it makes his head lawl foreword. 

“I want,” he swallows. “You,” his breath his heavy, “to touch my cock.” He almost frowns as he pleads. “Please.” 

She smiles against his skin, pressing another kiss to the side of his lips, “good boy.” The praise makes a small moan fall from his lips. A small moan that quickly turns into a string of wanting one’s as she runs her hand down his chest, to the top of his pants, undoing his belt, his buckle, then his zipper, pushing them down far enough to reveal the tent in his briefs, the tops of his thighs bear against the cool air of their apartment. 

And when she pulls down his briefs, his erection springing free from its confines, she’s almost certain Duncan is going to grow tired of waiting. His hips stuttering, trying to chase her hand, trying to press against her front, trying to touch anything. Be touched by anything. Another please falling from his parted lips. This one sounding as if he were on the verge of tears. 

The tip of his cock is red, swollen and leaking. It’s almost tortuous for her to look at, so when her eyes meet his again she knows the desperate look in them is real. Genuine. Tortuous for him.

And as much as she would love to drag this out, take him to the bedroom and slide down on his cock, watch him reach up to kiss and touch her breasts desperately, have him praise her body, have his needy moans fall from his parted lips as he lays below hers complete mess, sweat slicked and skin reddened. She knows that he is not going to last that long. He needs it. Now. So so bad. 

So not wanting to make him wait anymore, she brings her fingers back to his mouth, her pointer finger finding his bottom lip, slipping past it until it meets his warm tongue, the cool pad of it against the warmth making Duncan moan. She doesn’t have to tell him to close his mouth. To wrap his lips around her finger, to the knuckle. He already knows what to do. And even when she puts a second finger inside of his mouth. Massaging it slightly against his tongue as he sucks them. Moaning around them. His eyes closed. His hips moving up against nothing but the air. Desperate for contact. 

“Open, wider.” She demands and he listens. Opening his mouth so she can fit a third finger in there, his mouth now hung open as she moves her fingers to the back his throat, causing him to gag slightly, but not enough for her to remove her fingers. Not enough for him to pull them out himself. Just enough for more spit to gather on them. Just enough for tears to gather at the brim of his eyes. For him to look down at her desperately. For his hands to grip the air, holding himself back from touching himself. 

“Such a good boy.” She praises. “Do you want me to touch you? Want me to make you feel so good, baby?” She asks, her voice filled with her own lust. Her own tease. 

He shakes his head, a little too fast, too hard that it makes her fingers move to the back of his throat again and he’s gagging again, a moan falling from his lips once he’s done choking around them and she removes her digits. 

“You’re so good, Duncan.” She presses a kiss to his lips, his own lips wet and swollen and devouring hers in a desperate kiss. Her hand snaking between their bodies. “I’m going to make you feel good.” She whispers against his lips, her wet hand wrapping around his swollen head, squeezing it lightly before moving down the rest of his cock, coating his own saliva with it. Making it slick and easier for her to slide her hand up and down his shaft. 

“Ah, fuck,” Duncan moans. His forehead falling against hers, his balance off upon feeling her finally touch him. His mouth hangs open farther, his eyes shut, his chest heaving. His hips moving, pushing up into her hand chasing her strokes. 

She can feel him throb in her hand. He’s so hard. So hot. So aching for her. She can feel the dampness in her underwear pool at the front of her shorts. God, he’s so beautiful like this. So fucking delicious looking. Chasing her touch. Begging her to “go faster, baby, please. Make me come”. It falling from his lips in desperate moans. 

She thinks, knows, she can finish him like this. Make him come with just her hand, she’s almost certain that’s what he wants until he whimpers a, “I need to be inside of you, need to feel you” against her lips. 

And before she can say anything, can take action herself, he’s pulling on her shorts, pulling her underwear down with them. His finger tips finding her hips again, “Please, let me feel you.” He whines, his fingers twitching to touch her further. “Baby, baby..” he moans, pleads, his mouth set in a frown, his eyes glossy, his cheeks red, how could she tell him no? 

All she can do is nod, because fuck, she wants him too, so bad. Wants to feel him. Feel that desperate need he has inside of her. 

With that he replaces his hand with hers on his cock, lifts one of her legs, it resting in the fold on his arm, lines his head up with her entrance, sliding in slow, almost excruciating. His mouth open wide in a silent moan, his eyes shut, his forehead pressed to hers, “oh my god,” he moans. Doesn’t move for a few seconds, his entire length seated inside of her. The feeling of being so full. So heavy with him inside of her has her breathing faster. Heavier. 

And when he finally starts to move, she can’t help the many moans that fall from her lips as she leans her head back, his head finding the crook of her neck. Pressing wet kisses and bites to her sensitive skin. 

“You feel so good,” Duncan moans against her, his voice muffled by moans and her skin. “S’good baby, you’re cunt,” he whines, “it’s so tight. So fucking warm, so good.” 

She simply moans. Simply lavishes in the way he bucks up into her with needy fast thrusts. Her fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, hanging on as he rocks her ass against the counter, his greedy hands coming to grip and squeeze at it, pushing and pulling her as he thrusts as if to bring her closer, push himself deeper inside of her. 

His moans are so desperate to whiny against her hot skin, his dirty words making her head spin, the pure want and ravishment of his touches has a fire pooling in her belly. Has her eyes clenched shut, her head thrown back, her hand moving between them to play with her clit. Because it’s all so good. His want. His need for her cunt. 

“Do I feel good, baby?” He asks, desperate to know. Needing it. Desperate for the praise. “Do you like the way my cock stretches you?” He whines, kisses her neck. “Please, tell me, baby...ahh, please.” 

She pulls his head from her neck, her hand on the side of his neck, the other still rubbing fast circles around her clit, as she looks up into his blown out eyes, their lips inches apart, “you fill me so good, Duncan.” The mention of his name making him groan. “Fuck me so good,” she moans. “Going to make me come.” 

Duncan moans, kisses her, “come baby, please, come on my cock, clench around me,” he kisses her again. “Want to feel it. Want to feel you come. Need to feel it.” 

And with one last rough needy kiss pressed to her lips she’s coming, moaning his name, telling him how good it feels, how good clenching down on him feels. Has her grabbing at his back desperately to hold onto something as shock waves roll through her as his pace picks up. His thrusts sharper. Deeper. Harder. His rapid rigid breath enough of an indication to tell her that he’s close. 

“I’m going to come,” he moans in her ear, his whimpers desperate, his voice shaky, so fucking shaky. “Oh, fuck, I need it,” he whimpers, whines, “I need to come. Going to come.” And with one last hard thrust he is spilling inside of her, his grip on her skin to tight, his body going rigid, stone, loud moans, whimpers and praises falling from his lips. The sweat from his forehead falling onto the skin on her neck. His hot and heavy breath making her shudder. 

And when he finally pulls his head from her neck, his arm moving from her leg, letting it come back down to the floor with the other. Pulling out of her with a soft sigh. The brim of his eyes looking as if they are filled with tears, the sweat on his forehead making his hair stick to it. His cheeks a burning red. 

She smiles. Knows that the need for her touch is still there. Still wanted. 

So she moves the hair out of his face. She kisses him. Praises him, “that was amazing, baby.” 

He whispers an “I love you” against her lips a “thank you” and the two are pulling their clothes back on and Duncan’s going to change, going to shower. And when he comes back out he can’t stop touching her. Can’t stop pressing kisses to her cheeks, her neck, any part of skin that is showing. Because he’s so thankful for her. Still wants her so bad. Still needs to touch her. He can’t fucking get enough and she knows that the desperation he feels will last all night and she thinks she may prefer this Duncan more than his normal self. 

Because when he’s between her legs later that night, begging to taste her, begging to let his tongue run across her wet cunt. When he’s sat at the edge of the bed begging her to take him into his mouth. When he’s coming a second time into her mouth, the angelic look of pleasure and need is a look she could get fucking drunk off of. 

If only every night could be like this.


End file.
